I'll Come Home
by SamFuckingJaywalker
Summary: Rue's older sister is chosen as a tribute for the Seventy-Third Annual Hunger Games. A bit on the depressing (only a little bit)/serious/badass side. Rated teen for language and detailed violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine, which could be good or bad, because if it was, it would have ended differently.**

**A/N: I write fanfics in my brain, and this one has been stored in my mental filing cabinet for a year and a half. Enjoy!**

"Amaryllis Scott!"

The voice of our escort rang out over the crowd of children. My eyes widened in shock. The last thing I had expected was to be called. My name was in the bowl only three times. There was probably a one in ten thousand chance of being chosen.

I turned to my sister, Rue. Tears had already appeared in her big, brown eyes. I hugged her tight. I didn't want to leave her, but I had to. I turned and walked slowly to the platform.

"Come on up, now. Don't be shy." The tall woman was wearing far too much makeup. She grabbed my wrist and practically dragged me up the steps. "And now, the boys." She plunged her hand into the other bowl. "Hunter Reed!"

A large boy walked up out of the crowd and stood next to me, smiling. Great. My male counterpart was like a Career. Hopefully, I would be able to kill him first.

The woman began yelling again. "These, ladies and gentleman, are your tributes for the Seventy-Third Annual Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

We were dragged into the building behind us and sent into rooms to await our families for goodbyes. Ten minutes later, Rue peeked in. She ran right up to me and hugged me around my middle. "You can't go, Amy! I won't let you!"

Tears were springing to my eyes now. "I promise you, I'll come back. Nothing will happen to me. I will come home."

The last thing I wanted would be to leave Rue all alone. She was strong and feisty, but she was still little. I wasn't sure what might happen if she were all alone.

Just then, three Peacekeepers came in and started dragging Rue out of the room. I strode up to them and wrenched their arms off of my flower. "Timing. Really?" No reaction. "_Leave us alone_," I hissed. They backed off.

Rue's eyes widened a bit at my language. I hugged her again and we sat down on the bench. "Do you want to hear a story, flower?" Rue nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. "All right. Once upon a time, there was a little girl. One day, her sister had to go far away to a dangerous place. But, the little girl believed in her sister, and, eventually, she came back, perfectly safe, and definitely glad to be home. And then they lived happily ever after." She smiled a little.

"Do you know who that story is about?" Rue just looked at me. "It's about us. Mostly you, being your brave little self. I'll be fine, as long as you believe in me. I'll come home. For you."

**A/N: Well, that just added a whole extra dimension to Rue's story! To what lengths will Amy go to get back to her sister? Tune in again for Chapter Three, TBU*!**

***To Be Uploaded**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the Hunger Games.**

**A/N: I meant chapter two, not three. OK, that chapter was a little rusty. It gets better, I promise.**

I was bundled onto the train by my escort, whose name turned out to be some obscure science-y plant name that I still can't remember. Oh, that's it. Eximia. It sounds like a sneeze, almost.

I looked over my district partner. He was really tall, and big. I had never actually seen him before, but he looked tough. Actually, he looked like he pretended to be tough. His name made sense, almost. Sport hunters hunt to feel bigger than they are, and that's the kind of sense Hunter Reed gave off.

My mentor was a tall, skinny woman by the name of Malva. I was hoping for Seeder, but they had decided to rotate out the mentors for some reason.

Malva didn't like the looks of me, and I didn't like the looks of Malva. We were even, then.

"Name?" Malva asked in a monotone voice.

"Amaryllis Scott," I replied. "I feel like you already knew that."

She snorted. "What kind of name is Amaryllis?"

"What kind of name is Malva?"

Malva smiled. "You've got cheek, girl. That can help in the arena."

I raised an eyebrow. "And how, exactly, will being _cheeky_ help me survive in the arena?"

A look appeared on Malva's face that clearly showed she hadn't actually thought about that.

"I take it your intelligence didn't exactly help you win, did it?" I asked sweetly.

She glared and said nothing.

"I'm not going to let you try to help me," I said matter-of-factly. "I'll do far better if you just stay away."

She continued to glare.

I went to my spacious quarters a few cars down and flopped onto the bed. Ugh. Too soft. I got up, dragged the blanket and a pillow off of the bed, and laid down on the floor. Much better.

The door clicked open. It was Hunter.

"What do _you_ want?" I asked.

"I was going to ask if you want to be allies," he said, a little nervously. Oops. He lost his character.

"No way!" I said immediately.

"Don't you want a big, strong man to protect you in the arena?" he asked sappily, sliding back into character.

Raising an eyebrow, I replied, "Why would I need someone to protect me?"

"You're a _girl_," he said as if it was obvious. "Every _girl_ needs a big, strong man. Like me." He puffed out his chest.

Still giving him the _you're crazy_ look, I said, "Why would you want to help me?"

"Why wouldn't you want my help?"

Malva would have called him cheeky.

"Let me count the ways," I drawled, slowly standing from my reclining position on the floor. "One: you're not as strong as you think you are. Two: Since you have an aura of strength, the careers might pick you up. Yes, that is a bad thing. Three: The careers will then kill you off when they find out you're just a pitiful weakling, meaning they all attack me as well and I end up with more blood than necessary on my hands. Four-" He cut me off.

"You think _you_ could kill off the _entire_ career pack single-handedly?" He looked incredulous.

I smiled wickedly and pounced. In seconds, he was on the floor and I had his arms twisted up behind him. I grabbed him by his greasy hair and pulled his face off the floor. "Do you believe me now?" I asked sweetly.

"No fair!" he said, on the verge of tears. "My guard was down!"

"And that's exactly what will get you killed later on," I said smoothly, and let him up. "Just so you know, I will do _anything I have to _to get back to my sister. So _stay out of my way!_"

The instant he was on his feet, he swung his fist at me wildly. Rolling my eyes, I caught the punch, set my right heel behind his, and flung him over my leg. He hit the ground with a loud thud.

I was exhilarated. That had never happened before. I just kind of..._reacted_.

"Get out of my room," I said icily, "and don't come near me again, or you'll find yourself in a worse predicament than the one you're in now."

He didn't react. He just lay there, gasping like a fish out of water.

"Did you hear me?" I asked, my voice getting darker and colder.

He nodded, still gasping.

"Then _get out_."

He scrambled to his feet and ran out of the train car.

**A/N: And the story begins! Amaryllis will do anything she has to to get back to Rue. Just how far does "anything" go? Tune in for chapter three! This time I actually mean three!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Once again, I still don't own the Hunger Games. No change in the last while.**

**A/N: Amaryllis arrives at the Capitol and things begin for real! Yay!**

The train pulled through the Capitol and stopped at a huge station. We had passed swarms of people, all excited to catch a glimpse of one twelfth of the tributes.

"Wave at them, girl," Eximia said. "You must have a good reception from your audience, or they will never accept you as a possible victor."

Rolling my eyes for what seemed like the forty-second time in an hour, I replied, "I don't care if they accept me. I'll just go into the arena and kill anyone who gets in my way."

Or at least that's how I hoped the games would go. I wasn't sure if that would actually happen.

Hunter was loving the attention. He positively rolled in the glory of the Capitol, waving at everyone and smiling just like the idiot he was.

I just stood there stoically and glared at the population of the Capitol. It was all far too big and incredibly shiny. Neither of these were things I liked. I preferred the small, simple, not-sparkly things of District Eleven.

We were practically dragged off of the train and pulled through the crowds, who were all reaching for us, trying to touch the _celebrities_ as we passed.

I wrenched my arm out of Eximia's grasp and sped up until I was ahead of the District Eleven entourage. No one protested, not even the Peacekeepers that I was racing ahead of.

I stopped when I reached the steps of the one building I would be confined to for the next week until the Games started.

Eximia led us to an elevator. I stopped in front of it and said, "No thanks, I'll take the stairs," in a surprisingly small voice. I hated small spaces.

I ran away, following the nonexistent signs to the stairs. Two Peacekeepers trailed me, and I ran up the stairs to the tenth floor, not even really breathing hard. The Peacekeepers were huffing and puffing by the time they caught up with me.

Somehow, I had beat the elevator. The room I had entered at the door marked 10 was enormous. It was lavishly decorated, and the walls were actually floor-to-ceiling windows.

My breath hitched. The spell broke when the elevator dinged and slid open, revealing Eximia, Hunter, Malva, Hunter's mentor whose name escaped me, and the other two Peacekeepers.

"Wow!" Hunter breathed.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" Eximia said smugly, in a voice that just dripped self-importance.

"If you like gigantic spaces with far too many fake plants," I said sarcastically.

Eximia made a sort of squeak of indignance. "How do you not like this? This is the perfect place for pre-Games."

"Not really," I said thoughtfully. "The purpose of giving the tributes luxury is to both hype up the Games and to get us used to luxury, making the actual survival part of the Games harder."

"Not true!" Eximia said with even more indignance. "Tributes are chosen, and they get the _great privilege_ of living the high life for a week before competing for the honor of becoming the victor of the Hunger Games!"

"What are you on, and why aren't you sharing?"

With another squeak of indignation, Eximia left the room.

I began to laugh. Soon, I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. Malva laughed with me.

"You have the same sort of humour that I have!" Malva said, gasping for breath. "The Capitol people are so- so- _idiotic!_ It's so easy to make them mad!"

I smiled at Malva for the first time. "And they just don't understand the fact that the Games are stupid! Oh, wow, I could rant about the Capitol for hours. But I won't," I finished seriously. "They might hear me, and then where would I be?"

"You could be- wait for it- _imprisoned! _Or worse- _enslaved!_"

"See, but if they did _that_, they would miss out on the entertainment!"

"The horror!"

Wait a minute. Why was I laughing? With _Malva_, of all people? This was serious. I needed to train hard and survive the Games to get back to Rue.

No more laughing. From now on, I would just train, and work towards my goal: Going home.

**A/N: Aaaand-CUT! Scene one of pre-Games complete on Take One! Soon, Amy will meet her stylist and all the other tributes, and learn exactly how to kill each one. Not the stylist. The tributes.**


End file.
